Chapter 139
"Those houses were built for you," Chen Ce replied with a smile, "Or rather, for all of you—including the other warriors of the Winter's Claw."
"Build it for us? Why?"
"Because I hope that after you win the position of Warmother, you will also move south."
"Huh...?" Sejuani was even more confused.
"Because the north won't be safe afterward." Chen Ce turned to look at Ashe, signaling her to listen, and then patiently explained to Sejuani:
"Just like I said before, the Frost Priests won't let you take the Winter's Claw from them; they'll be plotting something."
"To thwart these tricks, and to save time and ensure complete safety, I will directly eliminate all those Frost Priests are secretly controlling the Winter's Claw —just as I promised you before."
"This is convenient and efficient, but it will inevitably cause another problem--"
"From now on, the Winter's Claw will undoubtedly be seen as a thorn in the side by the entire Frostguard, and even that terrifying Lissandra might come looking for trouble for you."
"And your Winter's Claw during your initial period as the new Warmother must have been very fragmented and contradictory, making it too difficult for you to withstand the malice from the entire Frostguard."
"So... I hope you can all migrate to the south together."
As he spoke, Chen Ce took the initiative to extend his hand to the free-spirited girl—not to shake hands, but to place his hand on hers.
"Please consider this my request."
Sejuani fell silent.
Not only because the question was worth her deep consideration, but also because of the hand that reached out to her.
What a proactive young man... Not bad, not bad at all. Ashe is almost furious.
"This issue... um... I'll think about it carefully."
In the end, Sejuani still did not give a clear answer.
But it wasn't exactly a rejection. "I only have one requirement for the house—to live with you."
"Sejuani!" Ashe was standing to the side, couldn't hold back any longer. "Chen Ce is still an innocent young man. Please watch your words!"
"Then I'm still an innocent woman." Sejuani rolled her eyes dismissively. "An innocent little man with an innocent big woman, is there a problem?"
That's not how it's said!
"If that's not how it's said, then how is it said? Could it be that you're implicated and that's why you're judging me with your petty mind? No way, no way?"
"You...! Of course I'm innocent!"
"Oh~ you're quite proud of being a virgin?"
"Sejuani!!"
These two former best friends are arguing again.
Left with no other choice, Chen Ce had to resort to his trump card—
"Please, you two, stop arguing. Do you know what happened the night before last? The night we were drinking."
As soon as the words were spoken, the two girls promptly shut up—although they had forgotten most of it after their hangover, they still had some vague recollection.
That's embarrassing.
They were so embarrassed they wanted to dig out a three-bedroom apartment right there and then; they had no desire to continue arguing.
But Chen Ce, wanting some peace and quiet, didn't intend to let them off the hook.
"First, there's Miss Ashe, who committed the sin of gluttony—you overestimated your alcohol tolerance, got drunk, and cried on me all night. In the end, I was the one who took you back to bed—oh right, you also took advantage of the chaos to grope me a few times, and there were many eyewitnesses."
"I'm so sorry..." Ashe immediately blushed and lowered her head, feeling ashamed and a little regretful for her crime.
How come I have no memory of it after a hangover...? I clearly touched it several times, but I can't remember that wonderful feel...
What a pity...!
"If you can't hold your liquor, then drink less," Sejuani mocked, adding insult to injury.
But she seemed to have forgotten that she was also drunk at the time.
"Secondly, there's Miss Sejuani, who committed the sin of arrogance—" Chen Ce continued, "When you were drunk, you declared that the entire Freljord was yours, you promised to give me the whole northern region of Freljord as a dowry, and you even said you would throw Miss Ashe into the most remote corner of the south to scavenge for garbage to eat."
"..." Sejuani's face also turned red—but perhaps those words weren't just drunken ramblings.
The saying goes: Before drinking, I belonged to Freljord; after drinking, Freljord is mine.
Ashe added insult to injury, "I also heard that Sejuani, that pervert, tried to have sex with you while you were drunk that night...!"
The three of them began to speak more and more freely.
The female warriors behind him all wore complicated expressions.
"They're really good at it..."
Lissandra circled anxiously around the Watchers beneath the ice. She could see her tiny body separated from them by only a thin layer of ice. Her skin was as cold as a corpse and as pale as fresh snow.
The monster barely noticed her arrival. It was like some strange new life crying out.
In the dream of the Watchers, there is only nothingness.
Just like its purpose. Just like its past seduction.
Yes, nothingness... Beyond nothingness lies only more nothingness. The distant horizon is nothingness, the mountains blanketed by falling snow are nothingness, the dense clouds covering the dome are still nothingness...
Everything is nothingness.
But is this world real? The material world... also has what some ancient sorcerers called "realms." But they are all dead, perished in countless centuries and dynastic changes, leaving only decaying bones and obscure stone tablets flowing endlessly in the river of time...
Maybe it's true.
All of this... the cold and darkness, is real.
But amidst all this nothingness or reality, Lissandra must strive to maintain her... existence.
The abyss beside her opened its gaping maw. She saw the black sun devour her memories and existence, but no matter how much that maw swallowed, there was always more to devour.
Greed... Gluttony... Temptation... Depravity...
She looked down at the single eye, its shape highlighted by the long-lost vision in the eternal darkness. Horrible, distorted, almost without a fixed form; she staggered slowly across the ice, yet the endless cold propelled her forward... She realized that the single eye was also watching her.
She felt fear—once again.
Just like every time it's happened in the last tens of thousands of years.
She waved her hand forward, summoning countless ice spikes with the evil power bestowed upon her by her one eye. Her body appeared abruptly on the other side of the ice as if by teleportation.
She climbed up the ancient steps.
In the instant that a burst of static assaulted her eardrums again, she finally regained her perception of the world—she truly felt its existence.
A crown made of True Ice concealed her already blind eyes, but she still clearly knew that a Frostguard was kneeling in the center of the hall. She was waiting for her.
She returned to her throne, her unease gradually subsiding. She remained the Queen of Freljord.
"What is it?" Her voice was calm and authoritative, the coldness devoid of any emotion making the question sound like an unquestionable statement.
"We have failed." Frostguard's voice was filled with an almost blind reverence that overshadowed his innate fear of those in power. "We failed to lure the demon south; it remains near Nerazag."
"Are they still slaughtering villages?" Lissandra asked again.
"Yes... when we arrived, it was slaughtering a village. It... seemed aimless. Our men were all dead; only I managed to escape."
"It didn't escape, it just let you go on purpose." Lissandra leaned back gently, her elegant posture seemingly conveying her composure and confidence.
"It's delusional that I'll send more Frostguard to annihilate it, so it can stay put and destroy everything... Well then, the plan has changed."
"I will obey your command." Frostguard understood and bowed respectfully again.
"If that outsider survives, bring him to me." Lissandra leaned back completely in her chair, her voice growing fainter—her body seemed to be slowly sinking into the throne.
"And the Avarosa's Inheritance... and the descendants of Serylda..."
Meanwhile, on the other side of Freljord.
In an unnamed village near Nerazag.
A massive, crimson figure stood on the snow, his feet already covered with corpses.
He was several meters tall, his entire body covered in black, hard carapace, with a blood-red liquid flowing between the gaps in the carapace; he had horns on his head, and a pair of narrow, sharp eyes that slanted upwards, and beneath his slightly gaunt face were terrifying muscles.
He held a huge, dark red greatsword in his hand.
Or rather... it was the sword that held him.
That sword is the real him.
This body was nothing more than a poorly made imitation pieced together from countless pieces of flesh.
His soul was imprisoned within that Darkin Blade.
His soul... yes, a soul that was once full of glory.
He was once called the Ascended, but now he has another name... an insulting and infamous one.
Darkin.
He is Darkin.
Aatrox, the Darkin.
He doesn't like his current title... Perhaps some people still remember his former nickname, but he now prefers to call himself --
The World Ender.
Aatrox the World Ender.
The World Ender, the World Ender brings everything to destruction and death.
He didn't hate anyone, nor did he want to kill anyone; he just... just wanted to kill himself.
But he couldn't do it.
Countless centuries ago, the gods could not kill him... and now, he cannot kill himself.
He hated his current lowly, ugly state, yet he couldn't even bring himself to commit suicide...
Despair and shame grew within him. The divine power he once represented, and all his memories, had been erased. Despair and shame festered within him. And the solution he ultimately devised was born from the profound despair of a prisoner—
[If he cannot destroy the sword, nor free himself, then he shall embrace annihilation.]
He was left with only a blind hope: if he could drag all creation into a final, apocalyptic war—in which everything would be destroyed—then perhaps he and the sword would also cease to exist forever.
"Now, the World Ender has arrived..."
Chapter Twenty-Four: Sword Demon: Rhaast, I'm Reiner!
After several days of travel, Chen Ce finally arrived at the Winter's Claw Tribe.
It was much smaller than he had imagined—or rather, much smaller than he remembered.
In his mind, this tribe, which could be considered the legitimate descendant of one of the Three Sisters Serylda, should be very large, at least in terms of population, it should be much larger than that of an average tribe.
But the truth is that the Winter's Claw Tribe only has a pitifully small number of about a hundred people.
Even with the dozens of warriors Sejuani brought back, the total number barely exceeds one hundred and fifty.
Given its scale... it can only be described as completely unrelated to the word "massive".
Even some small, nameless tribes have this many people.
Winter's Claw.
"Sparse population and poor, is that right?" Walking along the tribe's main road, Sejuani ignored the greetings from the tribespeople passing by, but noticed the subtle changes in Chen Ce's expression.
"But don't worry, no matter how poor we are, we will never mistreat you, our distinguished guest."
As she spoke, she glanced at Ashe again. "Of course, someone isn't a distinguished guest."
"Anyway, Mr. Chen Ce and I will always be together—don't forget, he's from my Avarosan Tribe." Ashe rolled her eyes at him indifferently.
"Hehe." Sejuani didn't argue with her anymore, and turned her attention back to Chen Ce —she stopped joking, and her voice and tone became somewhat low:
"But... the Winter's Claw wasn't like this before... From now on, this place will be strong and resource-rich, and all tribes within hundreds of miles will have to bow down to the Winter's Claw."
"I can imagine that scene." Chen Ce nodded. "I've heard a little about it."